


Harley's First Murder

by MissHarleenFQuinzel



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6089266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHarleenFQuinzel/pseuds/MissHarleenFQuinzel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Robbery was one thing, but flat out murder was quite another. She had known she would be expected to kill eventually, but she’d always figured she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. And now, all too suddenly, she was at the bridge."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harley's First Murder

The bank’s alarms blared so loudly, Harley thought the entire building would fall down for sure. And yet, Joker’s men seemed un-phased, like the alarms were just another background noise akin to a ticking clock or a TV infomercial, something to be ignored while they went on with the job of emptying the bank’s huge vault. Bag after bag of money left the vault in hands of one of Joker’s men as Joker himself stood to the side observing and occasionally barking out an order. Harley herself stood far away from the action, unsure of exactly what it was she was supposed to be doing. It was less than 6 months ago that she had traded in her clipboard for crime and broken Joker out of Arkham. She assumed that after something as big as breaking out Gotham’s biggest crime lord, little things like bank robbery would come easily. And yet here she stood away from the action, awkwardly looking on as the remains of the vault were carried out.

She glanced over at the nearby bank manager, tied to a chair and gagged. “Mondays, am I right?” she said in a bored tone. The man’s eyes held just about every negative emotion but boredom. They were wide with fear and what Harley assumed to be pleading. She’d gotten used to seeing that look during the previous 4 jobs she’d accompanied Joker on. She sighed heavily. “Aw come on, it ain’t that bad. Insurance will cover most of this. Probably. I dunno. I’ve never stuck around to see that part.” Harley’s words seemed to have little effect on the man, not that he could have said anything even if he wanted to.

She looked away from him just in time to see Joker walking over to her. “How’s our guest doing, pumpkin?” He said, as if the gagged and tied man were sharing Sunday brunch with them. “Oh him?” She said as if she hadn’t given it a thought. “He’s doin’ just peachy. Y’know, besides the whole ‘bein’ held hostage’ thing.” Joker chuckled. “Great! Looks like we’re just about finished here.” He chuckled again, only deeper. “Guess I could say the same for you.” He said as he put the gun to the bank manager’s head. Harley felt bad but not surprised. While there was really no need to kill the guy, she understood that with the Joker, it wasn’t about what was needed. She’d seen Joker kill people for a whole lot less than standing in the way of a bank robbery. Still, she wished the poor guy had done something to make her hate him. It’d make his death a little more justifiable, at least.  
The bank manager shut his eyes tight and turned his head away from the gun as far as he physically could, as if the bullet would miss him if he only turned far enough. Harley looked away toward the rest of the hostages huddled in the back, random bank patrons who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She stared at them for a long time, waiting for the familiar sound of the gun. She kept her head turned for a few seconds, and then another few, until she thought she might have somehow missed the gunshot. She looked back to see Joker staring at her intently, gun still on the man’s head, ready to blow his brains out just for fun. She stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just kept looking back at her, going over something in his head.

It caught Harley off guard when he took the gun away from the man’s head and instead, tossed it to her. She nearly dropped it out of surprise and fumbled with it for a few seconds before holding it loosely in one hand. She looked back and forth between Joker, the man, and the gun. “Go on then.” Joker said expectantly, gesturing to the bank manager. It wasn’t like Harley had never shot anyone. There was plenty of shooting to be done in the previous jobs she’d accompanied Joker on. But there was always a reason. An escapee, another threat, just some asshole. Never had she shot someone just because and never had she intended or succeeded in killing them. Then again, never had Joker ASKED her to.

But now, here she was, holding a gun in her hand. A gun that the Joker, the love of her life, had given her. It felt like a present wrapped up in a big bow, an honor. She was the little kid being held up by an adult to screw in a light bulb “all by herself”. She truly felt all this down to her core, and still she felt like she might throw up. Robbery was one thing, but flat out murder was quite another. She had known she would be expected to kill eventually, but she’d always figured she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. And now, all too suddenly, she was at the bridge.

She put the gun to the bank manager’s head, in the exact same spot Joker had, as if she wasn’t confident enough to pick a spot on her own, like a spot she chose might somehow not kill him as well as the spot Joker had picked. She swallowed hard. Her hand was shaking so badly, she was afraid she’d somehow miss. “Come on, Harley. We don’t have all day.” Joker said impatiently, yet with a hint of excitement in his voice. All this time, Harley had been staring at the gun, willing it to go off on its own, taking the blame away from her own hand. But just an inches shift of her eyes had her meeting the gaze of her victim. If she was sure of what pleading eyes looked like before, she was positive now.  
The bank’s blaring alarm faded away as she pulled the trigger, as if she’d shocked it into shutting up. All sounds faded away for a moment, until the next thing Harley heard was Joker’s delighted cackling. “Good show, Harls! Now get in the car, you’ve wasted enough of our time as it is.” Harley looked down at the victim she had almost gotten sick over, expecting to be mortified at what she had done. But now that he was dead, he was just another one of the corpses Joker had left behind at previous jobs.  
She felt silly for getting so worked up about this guy, almost relieved. 'It’s like being nauseous all day and then finally just letting yourself throw up. It’s not as bad as ya thought.' She thought to herself as she followed Joker to the getaway car. At Arkham, she’d seen cases of murderers hearing their gunshots echoing in their own ears out of guilt. But all that echoed in Harley’s ears was Joker’s praise, over and over, making her more and more giddy each time. “Good show, Harls!”


End file.
